


I'm not a monster

by Wolf5bane



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Anger, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Car Accidents, Crime Fighting, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fighting, Gym, Hurt/Comfort, Hydra (Marvel), Injury, Irondad, Missions, Misunderstandings, More tags to be added, Nightmares, Not Medically Accurate, Pizza, Punching Bags, Slow burn platonic relationship, Star Wars - Freeform, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Violence, Werewolves, movies - Freeform, some violence, spiderson
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:14:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24272638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolf5bane/pseuds/Wolf5bane
Summary: New York changed when werewolves became reality.They'd existed throughout the centuries,  but only in small numbers. As science advanced, genetic experimentation became more prevalent and greater numbers of werewolves were able to be created. Most seemed uncontrollable, wreaking havoc upon cities and lives. Though the Avengers disagreed on how to handle the threat, they worked hard to keep the peace, but even then, it was tenuous.One day, a young red-and-blue clad vigilante enters the picture. He appears the key to the Avengers to defeat the threat of werewolves once and for all.The problem? He is a werewolf.-----------Or, the Irondad Werewolf AU that nobody asked for. *Crossposted on Wattpad by the same username.
Relationships: Basically all of the Avengers - Relationship, Peter Parker & Natasha Romanov, Peter Parker & Steve Rogers, Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Quentin Beck & Peter Parker, Tony Stark & Avengers Team
Comments: 15
Kudos: 87





	1. In the beginning

Over the centuries, werewolves had lived, and died. They came about in small numbers. Unlike in the looming, dystopian future, they were natural. They were caused by a genetic mutation, fuelled by adaptations to survive harsh environments. The first werewolves were placid, docile creatures. Their fangs were blunt, and their claws were solely for hunting prey and carving out homes in the wilderness.

The years went by, and their natures changed. As humans evolved and became littered with the dirty seed of evil, organisations found out about these small packs of wolves. They took them. They shaped them to their will, and they broke them. As humanity became more corrupt, so did they. Some were hired to become assassins. Important figures began to disappear, and reappeared, killed in ways that no human could kill.

Government organisations and early superheroes alike attempted to track down the wolves, but they appeared to by dying out. Upon finding a group, the wolves would mumble a few frantic words before disappearing into death. However, soon they became less of a problem, and with the appearance of supervillains and hostile aliens in the modern age, they were forgotten.

Until they were back. New York was the target, despite the threat of the Avengers, who camped out at Stark Tower, overseeing the city like a parental eye. Men and women with fangs, yellowed eyes, bulging muscles, and plans of demise began to terrorise the city in numbers so vast that it was hard to keep up. Some sported red stars on their arms and metal limbs.

Even if the Avengers were divided on their opinions on the werewolves, as the large city fell into disarray, they stuck together to keep the peace as best as they could. It was a strange shift in power, to find tragedies they could not prevent.

The wolves seemed wild in nature. A regular guy walking down the street could pause at any point, body contorting before he sprung upon an unsuspecting victim. It was obvious that they were targeting important figures, such as politicians and those who protected the city, to innocent cops and members of public service.

It appeared that the Avengers were the only ones who could keep whole and safe, preventing what they could. They were constantly on the look out for help, hoping that the rise in werewolves meant that more heroes would emerge.

******************

Late one evening, they were in pursuit of a wolf who had attacked a small police department, leaving destruction in their wake. A tall-ish male with dark hair and long claws, witnesses had stammered. Tony Stark, donned in his Iron Man suit, was leading the chase. They didn’t have the culprit in their sights, but they did have clues. A superhuman bend in a strong metal gate, a clawed footprint crushed into the dirt, for example.

He kept his gauntlets steady as he allowed Friday to scan the area for any signs of the wolf. She detected two life signs ahead of him, unable to distinguish who they were. He powered forward regardless, blue energy jetting from his suit as he increased his speed. There was a crash in an alleyway, in which he had to pause to swerve over a trash can that had been disturbed, spilling its contents down the street. White strands littered the long passageway. He allowed himself to meet the ground, metal clinking against the cobbled pathway.

At the end, he saw a flash of a red and blue hoodie. He took quick notice of this vigilante, before seeing the wolf they’d left in their wake, tied in webs with a handwritten note at their feet.

 _‘Thought you were looking for him :)’_ It read in a tidy scrawl, to which Tony rolled his eyes, glancing back up to look for the vigilante, but they were gone.

“Friday- search databases for the identity of the vigilante.” He murmured, before turning back to the wolf.

*********

It hadn’t taken long to get the identity of the new hooded hero. Despite not getting too good of a look at him, his suit had recorded a clear visual of one side of his face, and from his build and stature, as well as handwriting, he found that it was one _Peter B. Parker from Queens_.

This made sense, given that he’d strayed into the territory of Queens on his pursuit of the wolf. He made a few more searches, locating his home, and contact details in case he wasn’t present at his house, before calling for Happy to get a car ready.

On the drive there, he noted once again how empty the roads were these days. Wolf attacks had become a regular occurrence, and with more and more people being transformed, the deaths were no longer limited to public figures, sometimes being more personal to the individual. People thus were scared to venture out too often. Tony didn’t feel too fussed. He was driven anywhere by his head of security, and his watch would turn into a gauntlet if he tapped the correct button.

Still, he hurried inside upon reaching Parker’s apartment block, choosing to take the stairs where there was less chance of being cornered. He glanced from his phone to each door he passed to check he was going in the right direction. When he reached it, he rapped his knuckles on the door. It opened slightly, and he took in the lock and a woman looking out at him, likely checking he wasn’t a wolf, before pulling the door fully open and ushering him inside.

“Tony Stark—” Her eyes were wide as she hurried to clear the couch, pushing a few books onto the floor. “To what do I owe the- well, what are you doing here?” She laughed.

“I assume you’re May.” He responded. “Well, I’m looking for Peter. See, he’s got an… internship. He didn’t apply, but at Stark Industries, we’re always looking for bright young minds.”

May swallowed. “I, uh, wow. Peter? Wow. Look, I’m really… really happy for him. But, is it safe? I know you’ve got the Avengers on call, but…”

“That why I’ve come here- to, to take him on a few week’s training course.” He made up as he went along. “Yeah. To make sure he’s assigned proper security, you know. And learns some combat training. Some of his work that I’ve reviewed, his papers on, well, string theory. They’re astounding. They could really help with the current situation.”

May opened and closed her mouth a few times, struggling for an answer. “I mean, it’s entirely Peter’s decision. I’m going to worry about him of course, but if you promise he’ll be safe, then- okay. He’s in his room. It’s just down the hall, to the left.” She motioned briefly, sitting down on the couch. “Could I make you a drink? I did just cook a meatloaf, but I think Peter will probably tell you it’s a little burnt.”

Tony smiled. “It’s fine, thanks. I’ll just go and talk to him. If he wants to come, then I’ll let him pack a bag and bring him back in a few weeks.” He replied, walking down the hallway, spotting a few pictures on the walls. One had a much younger Peter with May and a man beside him. He winced to remember the story he’d read whilst he’d been researching the boy. His uncle had been killed by a wolf, who had then kidnapped Peter for a week, who luckily returned unscathed. Not long after that, ‘Spider-Man’ started appearing around the city.

“Anyone home?” He called as he pushed the door open. The boy jumped about ten feet in the air, rolling off his bed and holding his web shooters in Tony’s face.

“Geez- Mr Stark, I thought you were a wolf- or May.” The last part of his sentence made more sense, as he was currently in his red and blue hoodie. He plonked down in his seat his desk, pulling the hood over his head.

“I mean, I’m offended at the first part, kid. I’d say I’m a lot more handsome.” He chuckled as he sat down on edge of the boy’s bed. “Second, I don’t think I could really compete with your Aunt hottie.” That earned a grumbled response from the boy.   
“That’s not why I’m here, though. You know, I really appreciate what you did with that wolf the other day, kiddo. Saved me a lot of paperwork- that guy was so fast; I was getting about ready to blast him. Damn wolves never know when to stop.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Peter murmured, voice a little deep- as if he weren’t wearing his superhero attire.

“You’re literally wearing the underoos, Underoos, but okay. You’re playing this game. I get it, really. Admire the tenacity to keep your identity a secret. Of course,” he continued, pushing up off the bed and bringing up a holographic projection of Peter as Spider-Man, stopping a car crash with his bare hands, “you kind of forsook that path when you wore such an obvious disguise. I found out who you were because I saw your face.”

Peter sighed, shrugging, spinning his chair around so that he was facing away from Tony, shoulders moving in and out. “Okay, maybe I am, then. Ugh, this is so annoying- I thought I had everything handled. I aced my Spanish quiz; I got that guy for you yesterday- what exactly do you want?”

“Getting down to business. Smart move. Well, you know the Avengers are always looking for bright heroes like you.” he lowered his voice. “What do you say? I already talked to your unusually at—your aunt about it. She’s on board.” He waited for a few moments, tapping a button on his watch to turn off the holographic projection, staring at the kid’s back as he waited for an answer.   
“Well?” He prompted after a few awkward minutes, impatient. “I know this is a big decision, but I can tell you that we pay well. Well- I pay well. The rest of the team just use my card to get takeout.”

Though he hadn’t known the boy long, the sudden silence seemed deafening and strange. He’d only been beginning to ramble a few minutes ago about his quiz and superhero activities, and now, he was completely silent. A strange, tense feeling hung in the air, and he found himself acting upon instinct as he walked towards the teen, hand hovering above his hood, before pulling it back.

He didn’t see anything strange, at first. He just saw Peter’s brown curls, and an annoyed look on his face. Then, as he turned in chair, he couldn’t deny the unmistakable fangs that protruded from his mouth and the claws that stuck out from his fingers.

“You’re a wolf.” Tony accused; any hint of excitement gone from his tone.


	2. Star Wars and Paws

"Don't tell Aunt May." The words tumbled out of Peter's mouth all at once, stumbling into each other in a stammering mess as he pushed out of his seat, drawing the curtains with ferocity, leaving tears in the fabric. "Don't tell her- she doesn't know- I swear, you can take me in- just, just don't tell her."

Tony glanced him over, eyes scrutinising. There was something misty in their depths as he paced away from the boy's bed, looking back at it as if it were infected. The enthusiasm of a new protegee, of having a hero to train and take into his ranks, had sparked out, leaving his fists clenched.

"Pack a bag." His words were sharp and blunt as he moved towards the door, pulling it open. "I'll be waiting by the car."

Peter was left feeling empty. From what Tony had said, he knew that he wasn't going to sell him out to his aunt. However, this didn't stop the sinking in his heart that came from the way his role model, _the_ Tony Stark, had looked at him, seeing what he was and carelessly throwing him into a category.

He paced around his room, throwing off the hoodie, stuffing in into his bag, before grabbing a different jacket. It was grey with sleeves long enough to hide his claws, and one he could pull the drawstrings tight on so that his fangs would be obscured. The teen gathered a few more items, throwing in some clothes, his electronics, and a couple textbooks, before zipping it up and swinging the backpack onto his shoulder.

Glancing in his mirror, he determined that his werewolf attributes were concealed well enough and made his way through the kitchen. He would have loved to transform back and have a proper goodbye with his aunt, before he was likely thrown into government holding or something of the sort, but his transformations seemed uncontrollable.

"Bye, May-May," he murmured as he hurried towards the door, but was stopped as she stepped behind him, turning him around and pulling him into a hug. He took from the fact that she didn't scream, that his disguise had worked well enough.

"Have a good time, okay, sweetie?" She pulled him in tighter, staying like that for a few moments, before loosening her hold and attempting to get a look at his face. "Pull that hood down, it's hot out there," she tugged on the edge of his hood, not dissimilar to the way Tony had minutes before. He growled, turning away.  
"Now, I wouldn't make noises like that around Tony Stark," she chuckled, oblivious, "I don't think that would make a great first impression. Be proud- I don't think many people your age get to work at a place like that."

"Yeah," he nodded, "sorry. I just- got to go. Mr Stark said, he said, uh- that he's busy. So yeah," he pointed towards the door, "I'll be back soon. Love you." He finished, already pulling away and moving to the door, wrenching it open.

"Love y—" May's parting words cut out as he slammed the door. Peter winced. His super strength from the spider bite was usually controllable, but when combined with the wolf mutation, it felt as if everything around him were glass. His heart tightened, but it would probably be easier to forget his aunt entirely, if he wasn't going to see her again.

**********

To say the ride to the Tower was awkward would be an understatement. The tension hanging in the air had grown so thick upon Peter's entry to the car, that Happy had immediately raised the divider between him and the passengers. Neither genius in the backseats said a word to each other during the journey, instead, stuck in their minds and mulling over their individual problems.

Peter had known that Iron Man was ruthless against wolves. He assumed, however, that it was because of the atrocities that the worst of them committed, not because of their species.

When they arrived at the Tower, Tony wordlessly motioned for him to follow. He slowed his steps as he walked to the elevator, counting down the moments until he would be captured and treated like a criminal. The man said nothing to him, other than a mumbled, "Keep your head down, don't let anyone see your face." He spent the elevator trip staring at his scuffed sneakers.

He found it strange when he arrived at one of the highest floors of the Tower, faced with the Avengers. As he was ushered out of the elevator, he wondered if this was what happened to all the other wolves- they were brought somewhere they couldn't escape, and killed.

No one made any moves towards him as he slunk behind Tony, glued so close to him that he may as well have been the billionaire's shadow. His heart hammered in his chest as he waited for the silence to break and the penny to drop. The Avengers didn't seem shocked at his appearance; or at least, they made sure not to show it on their faces.

"Everyone, this is Peter." Tony said woodenly. "Better known as Spider-Man. Now, I'm going down to my lab..." His sentence trailed off in a mumble, as if he'd been going to add something else, but thought better of it. Peter found the figure in front of him moving away, removing the barrier between him and these strangers. Well- Tony was one too, of course. He had felt strangely connected with the man who he'd worshipped for years, until the whole werewolf secret had been outed.

He stood awkwardly, fidgeting with the drawstrings of his hoodie, clinking the metal ends against each other. As if on a delay, the Avengers became animated once more. A tall blond man, who Peter noted as Captain America, came towards him with an outstretched hand and a warm smile.

"Hey, Pete. I'm Steve. You don't need to look so worried, Tony brought you here as part of the team."

Peter blinked in confusion as the words sunk in. He raised his hand to shake Steve's before he saw the claws extended from his fingers and he looked away. The soldier noticed this, and took the decision upon himself, grasping his hand firmly but also, gentle in a way that didn't brush against his claws.

"None of us knew you were a wolf, but we don't mind—"

"Unless you start attacking people." Natasha Romanoff supplied helpfully.

"Nat—" Steve threw her a pointed look. "Don't mind her. We're all stuck together in this tower, unless we're fighting wolves. Well... fighting is a stretch. I prefer to try and calm them and take them in, but Tony..."

"Has legitimate concerns." Clint threw in. Peter took in that he was standing close beside Natasha, settling somehow in his mind that they were on the same side- a side which seemed suspicious of him. He shrugged, figuring that they weren't wrong. At least they weren't downright horrified like Tony had been.

"And we're the Avengers." Steve countered. "If Peter was to try anything, then we'd be covered. But as you can see, even though he's a wolf, it doesn't look like he's going to maim anybody. Isn't that right, son?"

Peter looked up at him, blinking. "Uh... yeah. No maiming. Or other brutal methods of murder."

"Great." Steve clapped him on the back. "See, he's just like— another wolf that I know. Now, we were just about to order some food and watch a movie. You like pizza, Peter?"

He nodded, following Steve towards the couch. If anyone was still suspicious of him, they didn't say anything as he sat close to the soldier, taking in a few breaths, and feeling calmer as he felt his claws and fangs beginning to retract. He was also glad of this due to the fact that claws would've made eating pizza pretty awkward.

Peter glanced to the widescreen as it flickered to life, listening in silent contentment as the Avengers argued over what movie to watch. There were some votes on the new _Jumanji_ film, others on an old version of _Frankenstein_. His eyes lit up a little as he saw that the newest _Star Wars_ film was available and opened his mouth to suggest it, before remembering that he wasn't at home.

It seemed Steve sensed his hesitation, as he handed the remote to his now completely human hand. "I think we should let Peter pick."

"Well, we might not end up watching something about _a hundred years old_." Clint chuckled.

Peter smiled briefly, clicking a few buttons until his movie of choice appeared on the screen, and when no one argued about it, he sunk back into his seat. He began to relax when it seemed that he wasn't going to be arrested or killed. Thus, he didn't notice as Tony came back up from his lab, bringing Bruce along with him, until the engineer sat on the armchair to the side of him. He tried not to pay much attention to the fact that Iron Man was staring at him more than at the movie, and when the pizza arrived, it served as a good distraction. The genius' eyes were cold and calculating, although he began to defrost from icy tension to silent suspicion as time passed and Peter didn't attack anyone, nor turn back into a wolf.

As the evening drew on, Peter found himself growing tired and he wondered whether Tony would drive him back to Queens, when he remembered that he'd been asked to pack a bag, so he must be staying over. The movie flicked off, and he wondered if he'd be camping out on the couch. He sat up, reaching to grab his bag, when suddenly, Tony was standing in front of him, looking down at him, bag in hand.

"Your room's down the hall." He said, clearing his throat awkwardly, motioning for him to follow him. They stepped into the corridor, and he noticed an ajar door, which led them into a room painted red and blue. He smiled to see the cozy bed, draped in maroon bed sheets, and a desk, kitted with a lamp and some books.

Once his bag was down and he found some clothes to change into, Peter glanced up at the man. "Uh- thank you. For the room, I mean. And... uhm, and..."

"Not sending you off to Shield?" When the kid looked confused, Tony elaborated. "They're a place that locks up... well, wolves. But no, I'm not that much of an asshole. I know I haven't been amicable. That's on me, I'm working on it." He admitted, which left them once more in silence for a moment. "So, I guess I'm saying- sorry. Unless you kill me in my sleep." When Peter looked at him with narrow eyes, he held up his hands. "And that was a joke- never mind. Well. Night, kid."

Watching the man walk back down the hallway, Peter couldn't help but chuckle, pulling on his pyjamas. He groaned to realise that they were Avengers-themed but hoped that it might make the team warm up to him a little more. Even if the conversation prior had been steeped in awkwardness, learning that Tony wasn't going to hate him forever was a comforting fact. He assumed, as he lay down in bed, flicking out the light and pulling the covers over himself, that he probably wouldn't get that close to the man. Not knowing what he'd been hoping for anyways, he closed his eyes, drifting off to sleep, deep in thoughts about how crazy this was and what missions he might be able to partake in.

A couple of hours later, finished up with a project in the lab, Tony found himself back upstairs, standing in the doorway to Peter's room, leaning against the door frame. He told himself that it was to check that the wolf hadn't escaped. This might not have explained the small, fond smile tugging at his lips, or the fact that 'wolf' didn't sound so hateful in his mind when he remembered the kid sitting on his couch and watching _Star Wars_. This was a wolf. Just a wolf. He wasn't getting attached.

He was _not_ getting attached. If he thought any differently on wolves from that moment on, it was just pure coincidence.


	3. Uncontrollable

The air was clear of tension in the morning. If he hadn’t been missing home, then Peter would have been completely content. He awoke in a comfortable bed, with the smell of waffles wafting into the room. Down the hall, in the communal kitchen area, he could hear the quiet murmurs of morning conversation, the whirring of a coffee machine, and footsteps padding across the floor. He stretched before pushing himself out of bed, glancing to the side as he noticed his bag on the floor. Peter pushed it beside a cabinet to sort out later, before making his way into the kitchen.

As he came closer to the room, what the Avengers were talking about became clear.

“He can’t have it. I don’t want him to have it.” He heard Tony snap at someone, and he froze, slowing his pace. He was sure that he’d made up with the man the night before, but it sounded like he was talking about him behind his back. Plus, he sounded angry.

“But Tony- come on. I’m sure he’ll love it. He’s a wolf, after all.”

Peter peeked around the corner.

“I don’t care what you say- bacon does _not_ go with waffles!” Upon hearing this, he sighed in relief. As it became clear that the Avengers weren’t conspiring against him, he quietly made his way into the kitchen, seating himself at the table and catching sight of the offending waffles.

“Why not? Oh- hey, Peter,” Steve greeted him, sliding the plate across to the boy and grinning triumphantly when he practically devoured the waffles. “See, he likes them.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Come on, kid. I could’ve given you some maple syrup on those- sweet and savoury do not mix.”

“You eat pineapple on pizza!”

“That’s different!”

“How?”

Their bickering was cut short as Natasha entered the room, walked around the counter and snatched Tony’s unattended plate of waffles. “Boys, boys, come on. You’re both pretty.”

Tony sighed, grabbing another plate and seating himself as far away from Steve as he could, which happened to be beside Peter. The soldier in question sat on Peter’s other side. He paused on his waffles, feeling as if he were the barrier between their immature tension. “Uh, I like pineapple pizza and bacon with waffles.”

“Diplomatic.” Bruce commented from his place at the stove. “Talking of diplomacy and things related to that… Peter, I was thinking of asking you about something.” He paused in making the waffles, his attention fully directed towards him. “It doesn’t have to be straight away, but, as a scientist, I’m very interested in how- well, how you work.”

Peter shrugged, pushing his plate away. “I mean, it’s nothing great. I got bit by a spider a while ago, and then I got super strength and dialled up senses and—”

“Oh. No, I mean the whole wolf—”

“Okay!” Tony clapped his hands together loudly and suddenly. “Let’s leave that for later, big guy. For now, we have greater concerns. You know, the mission that Fury’s been bugging us about for the past four days?”

“And that’s why I think studying Peter could—” Bruce attempted to interrupt, but Tony shook his head.

“The answer’s no. Although, he could help.” All eyes in the room fell on the boy, who ducked his head down in response. “We’ve found the location of a wolf base, just outside town. It seems like they’re a rogue pack, but they might be connected with the source of your ki- the wolves. Or, at least we’ll get to stop some of the crime in this city, which would be preferable.

“Anyway, we got some intel on their base, and it turns out these people are just wolves, 24/7. They’ve got no chill. And as smart as I am,” this received a few eye rolls, “I can’t create a convincing disguise. You think you could help me work on something to get us inside? I’ve seen that you’re a pretty smart kid.”

Peter sat, staring at his plate as he mulled it over. “I could do it.”

“Great. I’ll show you around my lab later—”

“No, I mean. I could do it. I could go in. I am a wolf, after all.”

Peter had though the suggestion had been obvious, but the silence in the room told him otherwise. He dared a glance up and couldn’t pin the emotion in Tony’s eyes. It seemed a mixture of anger and concern.

“They’re rogue. Look, I get that you’re a crime-fighting-spider and I respect your ambition. However, I don’t think you could take them down by yourself.”

“I know.” Peter nodded simply. “But, it’s like, not something you have to do straight away. If I could go in there, blend in, I could gather some info on them. Work out what they’re doing, when they’re going to attack places, maybe what they know about other packs… I could just be in and out.”

Steve opened his mouth to object to this, but surprisingly, Tony stopped him. “No, he’s got a point. A reckless point, but let’s hear him out. You what, make yourself into a, a wolf, and ask some questions, find what’s hot in wolf news?”

Peter smirked. “Well, yeah. Of course, there’s a minor hitch… I can’t, well, I can’t exactly control it. Becoming a wolf. I dunno why. It usually just happens when I’m fighting bad guys but…”

“It’s too dangerous.” Steve shook his head. “We can’t send him in there. He’s a kid. How old are you, Queens—”

“That doesn’t matter.” Peter grit out, finding himself becoming more passionate about this. “I can do this. I just need to train, to figure out how I can control it- you guys are the Avengers, right?” He wasn’t sure who his last question had been an attack at, but Tony rose to his feet at once, feeling challenged.

“Alright, kid. Alright. I did just proclaim myself a genius, so I’ll do this. You and me, let’s take this down to the gym, right now. We’ll spar it out.”

Peter quirked a brow. “Are you, uh, threatening me, Mr Stark? Because I swear, I didn’t mean it.”

“No, I’m just testing out a theory.” He answered cryptically, as he walked out of the room and into the elevator. Peter tilted his head, visibly confused, but he quickly followed after him, catching the elevator door just as they began to shut and pulling them back open. As he stood beside the man, he noticed Bruce had followed them as well. He had the fleeting feeling of being a test subject but shook it off. If they had been going to experiment on him, then they wouldn’t be going to the gym. Unless… that was code word for something else. This fear fled his mind as the doors swished back open and the gym turned out to be what it said on the tin.

“Come on, hop in,” Tony encouraged, pulling up the ropes of the boxing ring, stepping inside and standing in wait. Peter opted to nimbly hop over them, spinning in the air and landing gracefully on his feet. The genius raised a brow. “Huh, we got a little show off here.” he barked out a laugh. “Let’s see if you’re as tough as you boast—”

Without warning, Tony swung his fist towards Peter. Luckily, due to his spider senses, he managed to dodge the hit easily. Tony didn’t relent, swinging at once with his other fist. This one Peter caught and turned back on him, but the man managed to knock his legs out from beneath before he could get in a hit.

“Too easy.” Peter panted, laying on the floor as if he were catching back his breath. The genius walked over to him, extending a hand to help him up, and he pretended to take it, grasping his hand, before suddenly pulling him to the side. Tony crashed into the ropes of the ring.

He wasn’t sure if the man were stealing his tactic, but it appeared as if he’d thrown him a little too hard, as he didn’t move to push away from the ring. His heart rate picked up as guilt flooded his veins. He moved quickly to help the man up.

“Thanks, Pete…. For the technique.” As the man finished his sentence, he suddenly shoved the boy backwards, sending him into the other side of the netting. The sudden attack caused his adrenaline to spike and he growled, not noticing the claws extending from his fingers as he rushed towards Tony. There was a shout, and then, the man was flying over the netting and out of the ring, crashing to the floor with a heavy thud.

Peter panted, realising from the feelings taking over and the claws on his hands that he’d become a wolf. He cursed the uncontrollable strength as he vaulted out of the ring to land at Tony’s side.

“I’m so sorry—I didn’t realise, I didn’t—”

“Save it.” As he sat up, his words were cold, his tone similar to how it had been when he’d found out that he was a wolf. His eyes raked over Peter’s face before flicking away, as if he couldn’t even look him in the eyes. “We found it out. I don’t think he can do the mission, however,” Tony snapped, pushing away the boy’s attempts to help him up, “he’s uncontrollable.”

With that, the man made his departure from the room, leaving Peter standing alone beside the ring. He’d been calm before, only feeling guilty and annoyed that he hadn’t been in complete control of his strength. Now, when the man made a dig at him and spoke as if he were some wild beast, some monster, he felt his blood boil.

“I’m not a monster,” he growled, watching as the elevator doors slid shut. “I’m not a monster!” He paced the room, spotting a punching bag and he clenched his fists. Peter found himself beside it, slamming his fists into the dense material, not noticing as Bruce mumbled something to FRIDAY. All he noticed was the flurry of violence he threw at the punching bag, claws flexing in and out until they tore through it. The bag puckered and wheezed, stuffing spilling out onto the ground. He didn’t stop until it was decimated, its shredded remains hanging limply off the chain.

Peter paced away from it, raking his hands through his hair. Why had Tony said that? All he’d wanted to do was help them gather intel on the other wolves. It had been the man’s idea to come down to the damn gym in the first place!

As he found himself approaching the totalled punching bag again, he felt a presence behind him, and he turned violently.

“Hey, easy there, big guy.” Natasha stood a few feet away from him, eyes focused on his, her words soft. She reached out a hand, and Peter paused at the simple gesture. “It’s not your fault, little wolf.” He glanced from the mess of stuffing strewn across the floor, then back to her, before taking in a sense of perspective.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, voice quiet as he stepped towards her. She sat on one of the benches to the side, where Peter noted internally that Bruce had been sitting. “I didn’t mean to- I’ll pay for it, I swear—”

“What, the bag?” She quirked a brow, before chuckling, “No, Tony deserved i. That was his favourite. Don’t look so shocked. He’s broken a lot of stuff around here as well.

“I know you’re probably confused about how he acts around you. I think you can guess it’s because he doesn’t like wolves. He may like you,” she shrugged, “but not wolves. His parents, they… let’s just say, a wolf friend of Steve’s killed his parents.” Nat stated bluntly. “It wasn’t the wolf’s fault, or so Steve argues. To be short, don’t worry about it.” She patted his back gently. “As much of a genius that he is, he finds it hard to distinguish between individuals. Just give him some time to brood, and then go and talk to him about it.”

Peter mulled it over, fidgeting with the sleeve of his jacket, smiling a little as his claws slowly retreated.   
“I will. Yeah. Thanks, uh… Nat. I’m still sorry about before, I dunno what came over me—”

“It’s fine. Tony can tend to do that to the best of us.”

He chuckled. When the time came and it was deemed that the genius had been left long enough to sulk in his lab, Peter pushed off the bench and moved to the elevator. As he entered the lab, he noted the cluttered projects thrown about different workbenches, his interest piquing as he recognised some Iron Man part prototypes. He found himself straying towards what looked like a new type of gauntlet, briefly forgetting the task at hand as his fingers brushed over the gold metal plating.

“Careful with that,” Tony spun over to him in his chair, and Peter jumped, almost dropping the gauntlet, “there’s a few loose wires still.”

“Mr Stark—sorry,” he breathed out, placing the gauntlet back down. “I didn’t mean to touch it…”

To his surprise, the man shrugged, pulling up another chair beside him and patting it. “It’s fine. I can’t seem to figure out this section of it anyway… scoot over here, you look like you have a few ideas.”

Seeing it as a peace-offering, and not wanting to give up an opportunity to work with Tony Stark in his private lab, Peter sat beside him and grabbed a couple of tools, listing off what quick ideas he already had before they fell into a comfortable silence. The minutes ticked by peacefully, the scene quiet save for the clinking of metal against metal and the scrape of wheels against the floor.

However, the earlier issue had yet to be resolved, and despite how engrossed the two were becoming in the other’s quiet company, working on a delicate engineering problem, it was only a matter of time before it needed to be addressed.

So, perhaps even more surprisingly, Tony was the first to mutter a mumbled, “Sorry. For, uh, earlier, kid. I was out of line. I suppose someone has told you about my… parents. But that’s no excuse. You were just trying to help, and I apologise.”

Peter stared at him, dropping the spanner in his hand with a clatter onto the glass desk. He would’ve remained like this for a while longer, if the man hadn’t had clicked his fingers in his face.

“Do you know how rare it is for me to say that? Say something, kiddo, or I might have to take it back—”

“I’m sorry too- I shouldn’t have thrown you over the net, it’s just my spider strength combined with the wolf strength makes it really tricky but- I’m sorry,” Peter said all once.

To his credit, the man smirked, shaking his head fondly. “Don’t stress on it. I’ve had worse. You’ve met Nat- well, she almost took out my head of security this one time… you can imagine the rest of that story. But- to the point.” He set down his tools, turning to face the boy. “I’m working on my issue. I know I said that last time, but what can I say, I take my time.”

Peter nodded. “I know. I’m trying too. Let’s just- say we have, have a, uh, a shared goal. You want to stop the wolves, and so do I.”

“I agree.” Tony held his hand out in a business-like fashion. His eyes widened briefly as the kid lurched forwards, as if mistaking it for a hug, before realising himself and chuckling nervously, grasping his hand. “Wow, hell of a grip you got there. But- yeah. The mission’s back on. I don’t think uncontrollable super strength will be an issue. If you want help with that in the future, I advise you consult Bruce. For now… let’s finish this.” He motioned back to the gauntlet. Once more, the two fell back into companionable silence. A shred of tension still hung between them, but even with their misunderstanding, the knowledge of a common goal united them.


	4. Hail Hydration

The next day, Steve trained with Peter in order to coax out his wolf side. It would have proved harder than the day before, given that there was less stress training with Steve than with Tony, but this was made up for due to the fact that Peter would be meeting other wolves that day. No, it wasn’t some kind of sick excitement to meet wolves like him. This wasn’t some wolf meet-up they’d pinned down from a dodgy dating ad, stating something like ‘Want to meet hot, single wolves near you, and possibly die?’ No, this was a serious mission. These wolves had been behind the murders of a group of wannabe, unprepared heroes. They’d found their hideout and brutally taken them down from the core. The only reason they had identified the bodies was because Tony had been attempting to contact them to team up with the Avengers.

So, it was sensible for Peter to be apprehensive. It also would have been understandable if he’d been scared. However, he wasn’t. He didn’t bother to speak to anyone about his feelings on the mission, knowing that prolonged stress would help him remain in his wolf form. He knew he was strong, stronger than the average wolf due to his spider abilities, and he was also assured in the fact that the Avengers would be on standby to pull him out if things went sideways.

Despite the high stakes, Peter couldn’t help but smirk at his current situation. Intel had told that the wolves were rather… well, fancy. They wore suits and traipsed about in a pack as if they were the werewolf equivalent of the mafia.

“I can’t-- do it, ugh—” he growled, tossing the tie to the floor. With more time spent in his wolf form, outside of fighting crime, he was beginning to realise that things frustrated him easier. Like when Tony burnt his waffles that morning.

“It’s probably because of your claws,” Tony mumbled, pulling a face as he had to bend down to pick the tie up off the floor, making a show of rubbing his back. “I’m old, you know.”

“It’s not…” he mumbled, before trying to stand a little straighter as the man began to help him put on the tie. “And yeah, I know you are. Centuries old. You’re probably a vampire, Mr Stark.”

“It’d explain why you two keep arguing all the damn day.” Clint snorted from where he was standing, adjusting the sight on his bow.

Steve drew a finger towards him. “Language, Clint! Young ears—”

“Have heard worse, I’m sure.” Tony finished for him, stepping back to look at the finished tie. “And I’ll remember that, young man. First you mistake me for a wolf, and now a vampire? We’re not _all_ mythical creatures around me, you know.”

Peter shrugged his shoulders in a very stereotypical teenager fashion. “Whatever. Can we go now?” He bounced on his toes, pulling up his sleeves to make sure they were covering his web shooters for hundredth time.

“Don’t ‘whatever’ me- gosh. You’re such a teenager. But, yeah, we’re ready. Have you got your coms in?”

“Yes.” Peter grit out.

“Your web shooters?”

“Yes.”

“Your—”

“Oh my god, mama Tony- get out—” Clint waved his bow to gesture. “He’s fine. He’s gonna be late to his appointment with the murderers if you keep holding him up.”

Tony pulled a face but did stop fussing over Peter. “If anybody, I’d be the father figure. And, fine. Go on, Happy’s waiting outside to take you to your little play date. Test out your coms when you get in the car.”

************

After a minor holdup with Happy going the wrong direction, thanks to the GPS screwing up halfway through the trip, Peter turned up a little late to the event. Grand cars were parked outside what looked like a private gala, stationed in a wide and looming mansion. A wolf, burlier than the others with a sharp look in his bloodshot eyes guarded the closed entrance doors. He didn’t move an inch as Peter walked up, feeling exceedingly small in comparison to the man’s stature.

“Uh… I’m, uh, Richard. Richard Peterson. Here for the, the event?” He winked. The wolf glanced over him, only moving to check his list once he noticed Peter’s fangs and claws.

“Yup. And you’re late.” He stated, moving very slowly to the side, and pulling open the door. Peter squeezed in the small gap, mumbling apologies, before beginning to realise as he entered the building that he should probably act more murderous.

“I know, alright? Geez. Yeesh. Give a wolf a break. Or, um, I’ll kill you.” This, apparently, was overkill, given that the burly wolf turned, pulled up his sleeves, before shoving Peter roughly inside and slamming the door.

He crashed into a server, luckily catching the tray of drinks before they could fall onto the floor. He skittered away from the scene after handing the tray back, blending in through a crowd of wolves. Getting over almost being caught, he took time to take in the sights around him, remembering that his task was to gather information.

Wolves were gathered in large groups around the room. Near the front were some chairs and a podium, where he assumed there would be some talk or something of the sort later. The air was filled with gruff voices and the clink of glasses. It felt as if a posh business event had been mushed into a criminal meetup. The drinks served were champagne and other various alcoholic drinks. The food was primarily meat. It looked strange to see a waiter carrying a tray full of slabs of meat, which one wolf would take carefully in their hands and position on a napkin. He shook his head, finding himself moving towards a smaller, more docile looking group of wolves.

“Uh, hi—”

“Hey, settle a bet, wouldja? He’s completely smashed, ‘en he?” The nearest wolf immediately grasped his arm, getting his attention so he could point at his friend, who was slumped over in a chair looking defiant.

“I am not! It was only a glass er two… uh, three... but the point is that I ain’t a sodding human—”

“Jeremy, please, you’re a disgrace.” The third wolf in the group, much more composed than his friends, muttered. Peter felt a sense of familiarity as he clocked eyes on the wolf. “You’re a disappointment to the family, go home. You haven’t even hailed Hydra once since we arrived.”

“I ‘av, I- oh, no. Yer right. Uh, hail hydra.”

“Hail hydra.” Many of the wolves in the vicinity answered at once. Peter tilted his head to the side, quickly muttering the words himself so as not to draw suspicion. The word felt familiar, as he was sure he’d heard the Avengers discussing it at one point, so he made a mental note to commit it to memory.

“You look new.” The wolf from before commented. “I haven’t seen you at these meetings before. Newly turned?”

Peter tilted his head, not having a clue what that meant. He felt it best to play along. “Yeah. Very newly.”

“Impressive.” He nodded. “I’m Quentin- and it took my fangs years to fully grow. And yet you already have yours, sharpened as well. Who did you get to bite you? They must have quite the reputation if they can turn a new one so quickly.”

Feeling as if he were caught in a language barrier, Peter quickly grabbed some food of a nearby tray to have an excuse not to talk. He awkwardly chewed at the steak as the wolf stared at him, his grey eyes cold and narrow.

“Sorry—I don’t remember. Didn’t catch their name. I think it started with a D, but I can’t be sure—"

“See, that’s strange.” The wolf began again. “Because I don’t recall that being how any of us turned. In fact, there’s no such thing as turning. Wolves making humans into wolves?” He laughed highly. “Very suspicious, little wolf—”

He froze, feeling caught in the situation. He stumbled back through the crowd, feeling the rest of the steak dropping from his hands as he looked for an escape exit. However, just as he set eyes on it, the lights in the room dimmed.

_“The event is starting now- please take your seats near the front hall, the words will be spoken shortly.”_

Peter turned, feeling himself being jostled in the crowd as the wolves moved towards the stage with a wild excitement shining in their eyes. He glanced around but caught no sight of Quentin. Until he sat down. The man was sitting in front of him. He moved to change seats, but the seats to both sides of him had already filled up, and the chairs were so tightly packed that he didn’t have a means of escape. He looked down at his lap, playing with the cuffs of his sleeves to try and distract himself from the feeling of entrapment.

“Hello, hello—” To Peter’s surprise, it was not a wolf who came onto the stage, but a human, wearing a sharp white suit. “Yes, I know you’re all eager to see me. And I have quite the treat for you all tonight. A young one. Hail Hydra!”

The words were chanted immediately. Peter’s voice was small and weak.

“I won’t beat around the bush—I want this one off my hands, and I want it done now. Please, feast your eyes upon this subject…”

Peter had to rise a little from his seat in order to get a proper look at what the man was referring to but regretted it when he did. A young woman, perhaps in her early twenties, was being dragged out onto the stage. He vaguely recognised her as a journalist who’d been reported missing a few days prior.

The man on the podium moved closer, lifting the microphone to his lips as he spoke a few soft words, in a language Peter couldn’t recognise. The wolves around him moved in unison, rising from their seats, eyes glimmering golden. Pushing himself to his feet, he attempted to shuffle his way out of the crowd. Just as he reached the edge of the rows of wolves, he felt a burning sensation as all eyes fell on him.

“We have an eager one, huh?” The man walked down from the stage. Peter tilted his head down, narrowing his eyes as far as he could, so that no one might notice that his eyes were still brown. “Come on, you can take the first hit, if you like. The others have already had their fill of violence this week, enough to last a lifetime.” He felt the man take his arm, moving him towards the stage. He squinted in the harsh light.

His eyes widened as they fell upon the woman lying on the stage. Her eyes were red rimmed, and her hands were bound tightly behind her back. Her pleas were muffled in the gag tied around her face.

“Go on, wolf. What are you waiting for?” The man questioned, stepping closer to him, mumbling those same soft words again. When he got a good look of Peter’s face, he froze. “Oh, seriously? Didn’t you hear what happened to the last of your kind?”

There was a cry in the audience, before the wolves began to approach him, fangs bared, eyes greedy. Peter stepped in front of the journalist, hoping his coms were still working.

“I assume they were killed in some gruesome way—” Peter began to quip before there was an explosion in front of him and smoke billowed into the air. He coughed, blinking as he found himself thrown backwards. The ground shook as pieces of the ceiling crumbled. He reached around in the darkness, honing his senses to find the journalist. Just as he caught sight of her still form, a large wolf jumped on top of him, claws digging into his arms. He shouted, whipping down his sleeves and pressing the button on his web shooters just in time to send a spray of webbing in the wolf’s face. They howled, pushing away from him as they desperately scrabbled at their face.

“Get the—list—” He heard an echoing voice, unmistakeably one of the Avengers, and he nodded in compliance, clawing his way back and luckily finding the girl this time without disturbance. The scene unfolding in front of him was a flurry of movement, with growls, shouts, and the occasional burst of blue light as Iron Man fired repulsor blasts. He longed to jump into the fray and help, but he knew that he had to get the journalist to safety, and with his injured arm, he wouldn’t be much use anyway.

********

It wasn’t long before he reached the Tower, and the journalist was taken away to the med bay, that the Avengers returned. There were minimal injuries, and yet, the group seemed disheartened, a shadow cast over them as they unsuited.

Peter was quickly caught trying to brush off any help, Tony spotting the claw marks dug into his arm. He refused the med bay, insisting that someone down there needed it more, so Tony took the first aid kit from the lab and helped clean his wounds.

“I thought you’d be happy,” he mumbled after a moment, glancing away as Tony dabbed iodine on the cut. When the man looked to him questioningly, he clarified, “because- other than you all having to step in- I think it went well.”

“How? The coms broke.” Tony questioned, pausing in his work to look to Peter with a raised brow. “I assumed you ran into trouble not long after getting in there. We only stepped in when we heard the shouts…”

Peter raised a brow. “Oh—” He paused the feel for his ear and found that the com wasn’t there like it had been before the mission. “It must have gotten knocked out at some point… sorry. I remember some stuff though. That this one wolf told me. Creepy dude. His name was Quentin. He said something about wolves not getting turned, that other wolves can’t make people into wolves… and then the other wolves kept chanting something that I’ve heard you mention before. Something about hailing… uh… ugh, I know this. Come on, think…” he muttered to himself.

“Hail Hydra?” Steve supplied for him.

The boy nodded eagerly, not noticing the tension that permeated the room with his words. “Yeah- that’s the one. I was sure it sounded weird, so I should have remembered… why, is that bad?”

“It’s… both bad and good.” Tony replied after a few moments of silence. “Good that we know who’s behind the wolves.”

“And… the bad?” Peter questioned when the man didn’t continue to elaborate, instead seeming intent on cleaning his wounds, getting the feeling that he was procrastinating.

“Bad, that… they know about you.”


	5. Settle down, little wolf

Tired from the mission, the team shortly departed to their rooms. All apart from Peter and Tony, who remained in the common area. They continued to talk quietly about the mission and how Peter could be kept safe if there were chances that Hydra knew he was with the Avengers. The plan in the end would be that he would stay at the Tower and only leave dressed in his Spider-Man disguise (even if it were simply a hoodie—Tony promised that he’d try and work on a suit for him in the future).

When Peter dozed off on the couch, Tony stayed beside him, even when the boy’s head fell onto his shoulder, before flopping onto his lap. He smiled fondly, finding his fingers carding through his curls of brown hair. Whilst his lingering mistrust of wolves didn’t fade, he couldn’t help but wonder how he’d been so harsh on the boy the day before. He rolled his eyes. He was getting soft. If Stark men were made of iron and were cold, then he was no longer entirely a Stark, because his heart was growing warm.

Those thoughts calmed him to drift off into sleep, a smile tugging at his lips. If FRIDAY took a picture, no one was to know. A snapshot in time of their budding relationship, that would progress from a man and a wolf in a united stance to save the world, to a father and son, united to save each other.

As the night drew on, the snapshot faded. It gave way to discomfort and repressed memories clawing their way back to the surface. Peter groaned in his sleep, turning towards Tony, and subconsciously gripping his jacket, bunching it up in his hands. His fingers clutched around his lifeline, but it could not dispel the thoughts of the man with an orb for a head, nor the green mist that surrounded him as he pounced upon him, unsuspecting, snatching the life from his uncle and bringing him to a place with no windows. People in white coats swarmed around him; he could feel sharp needles poking at his skin. His fingers flexed and he thrashed in his restraints but couldn’t free himself. Someone spoke soft, gentle words in his ears. He recoiled from them.

_‘Settle down, little wolf—I said settle down!’_

Time passed fleetingly in waves that drew back and forth, lapping against the shore of his mind, wearing down at the barrier between memory and remembering. The dark patches that had desperately covered his memories from the time he was kidnapped by a wolf and made into one, were torn away roughly, leaving the jagged edges of reality in their wake.

Another voice spoke in his ear, this one gentle but not sickly sweet like the last one had been. His eyes snapped open, bringing him back to the waking world, where he lay panting and squinting at Tony’s face, lined with concern. He noted the early morning sunlight peeking through the gap between the curtains, framing the edges of the man’s face in a sharp glow.

“You alright?” The man asked, patting his back as he sat up. His movements were awkward. Peter could tell he wasn’t used to this sort of thing, but appreciated the comfort, nonetheless.

Giving a short nod, he took a breath before replying. “Yeah. Sorry, just a bad dream… which… I think was good as well.” He mumbled hesitantly. “I don’t remember everything but- I think it was something to do with when I was made into, a, a wolf.” He groaned to try and recollect the fragments of memory and shove them together into a mismatched jigsaw of facts, finding that, as the time passed after waking up, they were quickly fading away. “Ugh, I don’t know… there was a guy- with like, a, um, fishbowl on his head. And lots of scientists. I think. I dunno though, they might have just been a gang with a liking for long white jackets.”

Tony shook his head, stifling a chuckle at Peter’s last comment. “There is a great deal of stereotype in the media surrounding scientists. They don’t portray the variety, which includes handsome specimen such as myself, wearing much more fashionable attire than—”

“Attire?” Peter smirked. “Sorry, what century did you just come from, Mr Stark?”

“Hush.” He tutted. “I’ll have you know that I’m trendy and hip. And yes, I can see it on your lips that you’re about to say ‘ohhh, Mr Staarrrkk, but saying that makes you _not trendy and hip_ ’- to which I say: zip it. The adult is talking.”

Peter held a hand to his chest. “That was a fitting performance, Mr Stark- but my voice is not that high. I thought you were just talking normally until you referred to yourself in the first person.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “That’s not even—okay. I see that you managed to distract me from the previous conversation. Gotta say, those are some smart evasion tactics you got on you, kid, but I practically invented those. This dream… was it—something real?”

He fell silent, staring back at his hands. He reached up to fiddle with the ends of the strings on his hoodie, knocking the metal ends back and forth like a Newton’s cradle. Peter fell back into his familiar habit, distracted by the _clink, clink_ as metal tapped against metal, only snapping out of his trance when Tony swiftly took the strings and looked him in the eye.

“Sorry,” he mumbled to his lap, “I, uh- you were saying… Oh- yeah, the dream. Well, I dunno.” He answered with an air of anti-climax. “I mean, it seemed pretty real. There were… real things happening in the dream as well. I don’t think I remember anything of… importance…” His tone faltered as he thought back to the dream, looking into the glassy orb, feeling the choking green mist in the room and the stab of needles—if Tony had been paying attention, then he would have noticed the way Peter’s eyes briefly flashed a golden, gleaming yellow. However, he was preoccupied with a text on his phone.

“Yeah… that sounds- sorry, kid. Apparently, we overslept and missed a mission but, back to y—”

“Ohmygoshwemissedamission!” Peter stuttered out in one breath. “I’m so sorry, Mr Stark. I guess we’re too late to join them but- is there something I can do? To, I don’t know, help. With Avengers business.”

Tony looked to him, pocketing his phone. “Well, it’s not your fault, but I’m sure you can help later. It’s not like there’s a limit of one serious crime a day in this city. Criminals don’t exactly have a schedule… For now- you, me, let’s go to my lab. I remember promising to make you a proper suit, so we may as well get a start on it.”

  
Now that there wasn’t the tension of an argument lingering in the air, Peter was able to fully take in the vast, awe-inspiring nature of the man’s personal lab. There were so many different devices, that he was sure he could only name half of them, at a stretch. Iron Man suits of armour stood still at a section of the lab, staring out at him with dull but alert eyes from behind their glass cases.

In the corner, a robot whirred, mixing together a concoction of liquids which looked a dangerous shade of black.

“Dum-E!” Tony yelled upon seeing the robot, who looked at him, its mouthpiece tilting in confusion, before bending down to lift up the beaker. Some liquid frothed and spilled over the edges, hitting the floor with a sharp hiss. As Tony scrambled to stop the robot and Peter lifted up the fire extinguisher, he felt a new sense of belonging.

*******

Of course, this couldn’t last for long. As Tony had earlier stated, crime didn’t neatly schedule itself and, just as the two began to construct the Spider-Man suit, an alert flashed on the holo-screens.

“Bank robbery sounds a little too simple, Fri. What’s the catch?” Tony questioned as he tapped on his suit, the pieces of metal assembling over his body in one smooth motion.

_‘There is only one criminal. However, they are a wolf.’_

“Course they are.” He rolled his eyes, turning to Peter as the faceplate snapped down. “You ready, kid?”

“Yep.” Peter answered shortly, pulling the red and blood hoodie over his head, tugging the sleeves back so that his web shooters would be accessible. As soon as his mentor fired up his repulsors and soared out into the open air, Peter activated his webs and swung out after him, jumping swiftly from building to building until they reached their destination.

It was surprisingly calm at the scene of the crime. Peter assumed that this was because there was only one criminal. Some people stood around the entrance to the bank, eyes wide and speaking rapidly into their phones. It seemed, at first, like a simple mission. Find the wolf, stop them doing whatever they were doing in the bank. However, a distraught face upon the steps of the premises hinted otherwise.

The hints turned to shouts. “She’s in there,” the man approached them, “my daughter! She’s in there, that rotten creature- it’s got her- please,” he begged, “Iron Man, Spider-boy—”

“We’ve got this.” Iron Man replied smoothly, turning to Peter as they came up to the large doors of the bank. “You get the girl, I get the wolf, capiche?”

Peter nodded in affirmation. As they crossed into the property, he felt the adrenaline surging, propelling him into the situation. There were shards of glass scattered across the floor, some unfortunate workers huddled under desks, and a tall figure hunched over at the centre of the room.

“Someone get out here, right now, get me my money, or I swear I will kill the kid—”

“I’d advise against that.” Tony murmured from beside him. A hum sounded as he fired up his gauntlets. “It’s two against one, wolf. Stand down.”

The wolf laughed. “My strength far exceeds yours, human. I could knock you down with one breath.”

“That’s a bit of an exaggeration,” he continued, “and scientifically flawed. Unless you have some supersonic powers, then I don’t think you could breathe any stronger than the average human.”

“Shut up!” He shouted. “I can do anything, okay? And besides, I have the upper hand. I got the kid. One wrong move and I’ll show you just how strong I am.”

“Hey, hey,” Tony held up his hands, “I’m not doubting you. No need to get touchy. Just put the girl down, and let’s talk—”

“Since when do _you_ talk, Stark? I thought your thing was blasting in and killing people. What’s wrong? Are you feeling tired?”

Tony smirked beneath the mask. “I’m touched. But no. I was just distracting you.”

“Wh—” Was all the wolf managed to utter, before he was roughly thrown to the floor. Peter swiftly moved to make sure that the girl wasn’t harmed and was instead out of the way by the time the wolf fell to the ground and began to growl. He’d understood Tony’s orders from before to get the girl and leave the wolf to him. However, as the wolf pounced onto him, he found it impossible to comply.

There was a flurry of movement as claws swiped at him. His heart thumped in his chest as he felt a surge of power, strong enough to allow him to throw the wolf off of him and gain the upper hand. He held up his hand to shoot out a string of webbing, knocking the wolf into the wall, which provided an opening for Tony to swoop in and knock him to the ground. Peter quickly hopped over to web up the criminal.

“I feel like we were pretty over-experienced for this, Mr Stark,” he chuckled, accepting the high-five off his mentor. He turned around, heading towards the shaking girl to console her and take her back to the safety of her father.

Just as he bent down to her height to scoop her off the floor, there was a laugh from behind him. He quirked a brow but continued with his task.

“Do you want to shut him up—” Tony offered, pointing to the wolf’s mouth, before his words were cut off by a scream. The child in Peter’s arms began to struggle, and as he looked into her eyes, he saw that they were wide with fear.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, I’m gonna take you back to your dad, okay? It’s okay,” he repeated, cringing as his words only seemed to make it worse. The screaming drew in attention from outside. The doors flew open.

The father approached them, at first looking grateful. “Thank you, thank you—hey, Sammy? What’s wr—oh my god.” The man fell silent as his eyes fell upon Peter. “Give her back to me. Now.”

Peter complied, looking with confusion from the man to Tony, but he didn’t have to wonder for long.

“I can’t believe you.” He pointed from Peter to Tony. “I can’t—why would you do that?”

“What, save your child? Sorry,” Tony drawled, “won’t happen again.”

“Why would you let that _thing_ near her?”

His finger fell solely upon Peter, and that was when the boy realised that his wolf features had become visible during the fight. Well, that wasn’t good. Despite the knowledge that people were generally scared of wolves, he’d figured that the man might have made an exception for him.

“I—I—” Peter attempted to apologise, but his words spiked fear into the father’s heart, and he began to quickly back away.

“Don’t, don’t come near me or my family again, you monster.” Were the man’s parting words to the heroes, before he ran out of the doors, clutching his daughter close.

“Well, he’s off my saving list.” Tony joked softly, walking slowly over to Peter. “Let’s get back. You did good today, kid.”

**************

The words hung heavy over Peter for the rest of the day. Tony seemed to notice, as he ushered the boy back to the common room once they had unsuited, putting on the next _Star Wars_ film and acquiring a selection of comfort foods.

He knew that he should just accept that this was how things were. _Uncontrollable. Beast. Wolf. Freak. Monster_. The words had been etched on him, thrown at him, spat in venom. His place in the hearts of humanity had been definite, from the moment that he’d been taken by the wolf that had tore the life from his Uncle Ben’s body.

Peter couldn’t help, however, but wish that things would be different. It had been a measly pipe dream, until he had met Tony, who, like everyone else, had seemed to loathe him for what he was at first—and then had taken a second look at who he was. This shone a ray of hope that, perhaps, he didn’t have to be branded by what he was. He was a wolf, but he was also Spider-Man. He saved lives. He tried to be as non-violent as he could. There was always another way.

Except, at times like this, he couldn’t help but see what other people saw. His actions of saving the child and stopping the bad guy were clouded by the worries about his species.

“The other wolves kill people, in the end.” He mumbled part way through the movie, finding his hand reaching for the drawstrings of his hoodie, before stopping at the last moment and finding its way to grasp the plush fabric of Tony’s jacket instead. “Don’t you worry that I might kill you in your sleep?” He echoed the man’s earlier words back at him without realising.

Tony felt a stab of guilt in his heart. “I’m sorry, kid. I didn’t mean that. And no- I don’t think that. If you were going to do it, I think you would’ve already.” This earned him a glare. “Okay, okay. That was no good. I just… I can’t see it in you. You’re a hero, not a villain. You haven’t killed anyone.”

“I know, but what if I did?” Peter repeated, watching as Tony reached across to pause the movie.

“But you haven’t. That’s the point. I don’t understand anything about wolves, I’ll admit. There’s no way I can promise what will happen in the future. But: you’re a hero, Peter. Whatever happens, I know that you only have good intentions. I might not have seen that at first and that man today—but we were wrong. He was wrong. You’re not a monster.” A pause. “You know why?

“Because of what you did today. What you’ve done all the other days. You saved that kid; you stopped the bad guy. You put your life on the line to find valuable information about wolves, you surrounded yourself with monsters. You saved the day, even when I know others wouldn’t do that for you. This world is cold and unfair, but you keep fighting for it. Day in, day out, you face persecution, but that doesn’t stop you. That’s because you’re a good kid.”

Peter smiled. “Thanks… Tony. I don’t know everything about this wolf thing either, so if I ever do go… rogue…”

“Yeah, I know, you self-sacrificial spider. See? A monster wouldn’t have said that.” He clapped his hands together. “Now. Enough of the sappy talk. I want to know what happens to that big grey planet thingy—”

“That’s the Death Star.” Peter informed him, falling back against Tony’s side, feeling more at peace with the sound of his favourite movie series humming in the background. People might not accept him, but that was okay. The ones who mattered did. Even if he noticed the way that they talked about wolves with hushed voices and narrowed eyes, and felt their contempt for the damage they wreaked, he was secure in the knowledge that they accepted the whole of who he was.

The evening drew on in a relative hush of calm. It became later, and the rest of the team arrived groggy and tired, but smiling, from their mission. They settled around to watch the remainder of the film. Peter felt a familial contentment. Fighting crime with the Avengers was a dream come true. He began to think that maybe, things would be calm. They’d go out, stop the wolves, and soon, the world would go back to normal, to the way it was before the wolves came.

Things were fine.

Until they weren’t.


	6. Newton's Third Law

When things go wrong in Peter’s life, they go wrong by extremes. His parents left him with his Aunt and Uncle; the plane they were travelling in plummeted to the ground and ripped them from his life. He began, over the years, to adjust to living with May and Ben; his uncle was killed by a wolf which took him to a place where he was made into a wolf. He becomes a vigilante under the alias ‘Spider-Man’ and works to save lives; Tony Stark comes to find him and takes him away from May because he is a wolf. Of course, there were positives: Tony was beginning to trust him, and he couldn’t deny that he was feeling close to the man.

But this was a positive. If he were feeling scientific, he would attribute the course of events to Newton’s third law, that every action had an equal and opposite reaction. Any positive in his life would be counteracted by an equally worse negative. Of course, that applied to the detached laws of movement, not emotion. However, his life did feel like some sort of science experiment, what with the loss and the two mutations, with every hurdle he hit feeling like a preordained obstacle set in his path to test him.

He was right, of course. There was a negative that came with his current positive. He and Tony tinkered in the lab together that day, whilst the rest of the team were away on a mission, infiltrating an abandoned Hydra base.

As they worked on the wiring in a Spider-Man suit, they moved with the fluidity of a well-oiled machine, tossing tools and equations smoothly to each other. These little moments, as Peter sat in companionable silence, drawing out sketches on a holo-screen, with his newly termed ‘mentor’ sitting across from him, helped to make life feel less formulated and cold. He may be plagued with Parker luck, but he wouldn’t swap these little positives for the world.

He wasn’t surprised when the team returned, and the air became choked with tension. Peter sensed the danger immediately as he walked into the common room. His eyes roamed over the hunched figure beside Steve with shaggy black hair and wild eyes, and he threw himself in front of Tony, eyes narrowing.

“Steve.” Tony seemed aware of the threat as well, not moving from where Peter had stopped him. His words were short and clipped. “What are you doing?”

The man, at least, had the sense to look cautious. “I, well… We were in the h—the base. There were only a few scientists left, who all popped their cyanide teeth before we could question them. Bucky was the only… subject left. I managed to calm him down, and—”

“What is he doing here?” Tony repeated his question with a small amount of rephrasing.

“Look, Tony—he’s changed. What he did- that wasn’t his fault. They were controlling him. But he’s fine now. He’s fine.”

Despite the man’s words, it seemed that the growing tension caused by their arguing was affecting Bucky. His eyes flickered intermittently with yellow, although he seemed able to control himself.

Peter, on the other hand, could not. His eyes didn’t change but his fangs and claws became sharp and glistened in the daylight as he bore them, charging towards the man. There were shouts from both sides, but the feeling was mutual as Bucky met him in the middle, and the two fell onto the floor with a scuffle of growling and snarls.

When Steve and Tony managed to pry the two apart, they were panting and both had gotten in minor hits, with blood-streaked cuts visible. They looked each other over, with the air of two boxers squaring up in a ring. When both determined that the other wasn’t out of control and a threat, they relaxed, and surprisingly, reached out and shook hands.

“That was… anticlimactic.” Clint commented from the doorway where the rest of the team was huddled, watching the scene unfold. They scurried away after receiving stern glares.

The four moved over to the couches.

“Sorry.” Peter mumbled shortly after they settled down, bringing his gaze away from his lap to meet the other wolf’s.

Bucky waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. I get it. I would’ve- I did do the same.” After a pause, he asked bluntly, “Are you—Hydra? Too?”

Peter tilted his head in confusion, throwing a glance to Tony who cut in to answer for him. “No- well, we don’t know. He doesn’t remember. No offense, but he hasn’t… done that yellow-eyed wacky business yet so I don’t think he is.”

“Huh. Maybe he just hasn’t… Never mind.” Bucky shook his head. “Maybe he isn’t. And I don’t remember everything either. I guess that’s for the best.” His sentence trailed off as a distant look filled his eyes. It didn’t go unnoticed that Steve placed a comforting hand on his knee.

“You okay, bud?” Tony asked quietly, bringing a finger to smooth over the fresh cut on Peter’s face. “I could get Bruce back in here… take a look at you two…”

Peter shook his head, tilting his head away. “It’s fine. I heal fast. I just…” he seemed just as distracted as Bucky, eyes narrowing and looking around the room as if he was searching for something. “Something’s not right.” He finished, and at that moment, Bucky let out a shout, pushing Steve roughly away from him and stumbling back off the couch.

“Get away from me, get—”

Steve assumed that the man was going back into an uncontrollable state, and moved to calm him, but Peter leapt up, standing in between them.

“His eyes, they’re not- they’re normal.” Peter advised. “It’s not him, it’s something else. My, my spider sense,” he hurriedly explained, “I can sense danger. And something’s not right, it’s near and—”

“It is me!” Bucky howled. “I’m fine, Steve. But- you shouldn’t have taken me. You shouldn’t have brought me here. They’re coming. They’re coming, they’re coming…” he continued to repeat the words under his breath, his eyes remaining brown but becoming blown wide, with a wild quality to them as he gripped at his hair.

Tony stood, taking out his phone, typing something in swiftly before looking to the group. “We need to go. Now. He’s right. I’ve scanned him- he’s got a tracker. We need to go. Steve,” he turned to the blond-haired man, “you need to get the tracker out. By any means. Then you need to get out. Tell the others on the way out. There’ll be two black cars waiting out front.

“Peter,” he turned to the boy once the others had departed, “I’m not taking any chances. Bucky was right, you might have been associated with Hydra before. I’m gonna get a suit.” He walked briskly over to the elevator, taking them down to the lab.

“Do I get one too? A suit?” Peter pondered, a little excited at the thought despite the situation.

Tony shook his head. “No. we’re still going in a car, but I’m bringing a suit for protection. You got your spider-wolf thing, remember? You don’t need a suit.” He smiled briefly, turning to one of the lab tables and picking up the latest flat-packed nano-technology suit, pocketing it.

“Sorry we didn’t get your suit finished, kiddo.” He added as Peter threw on his Spider-Man hoodie. “I promise, once we can get back here, I’ll finish it.”

With those words, the two fell back into focused silence, moving swiftly back into the elevator. It was mere minutes later that they were running out of the wide double doors of Stark Tower and towards the awaiting car. Tony hadn’t wanted to risk anyone else and so opted to go without Happy and drive himself.

“Go, go, go.” Tony urged as Peter snapped on his seatbelt and pulled the door shut. Just as he sat back in his seat, the engine revved up and they sped away, pulling out into traffic. Glancing behind them, the boy noticed vehicles descending on the tower. He frowned.

“Are the people who work in your Tower going to get hurt, Mr Stark?”

He sighed in relief when the man shook his head. “Nah. I informed them to take the day off once old Barnes showed up. Can never be too safe. And if any of them did stick around then they would’ve definitely left when I set FRIDAY to alert everyone in the building to leave.”

Peter smiled, fiddling with the drawstrings of his hoodie. “Great. Cause otherwise I woulda stuck around. You know, because I’m _sticky_.” he stuck his hand to the window for emphasis, to which his mentor rolled his eyes. “Those people following us are probably those security people I saw on the way out. Anyway, where are we—”

“Following us?” Tony cut him off, eyes widening as he glanced in the rear-view mirror. “Yeah, uh, I don’t think—”

His sentence finished in a shout. As they pulled onto a more deserted stretch of road, a car appeared from nowhere, slamming forcefully into the side of their vehicle. The car was thrown off the road, metal clanking, the bullet-proof windows cracking at the edges. The last thing Peter saw before his vision dimmed out was thick black smoke and the car door to his side being wrenched off by a man with a familiar grin.


	7. Wake, little wolf

Waking with a head wound was less than pleasant. A dull ache settled deep in his skull, and he found that he'd much rather keep his eyes shut. Whatever light was shining felt blinding, as if solid beams of sunlight were trying to shine in the crack between his eyelids. Peter groaned, attempting to roll onto his side, but his movements were halted by stiff metal. His eyes fluttered open at once.

The room he was in was lit only by the artificial glow of the cracked surgical light gleaming over his head. On instinct, he tried fruitlessly to get away from it, but this time he was stopped by gloved hands. That was when he noticed the figures in white lab coats bustling around him, mumbling incomprehensible figures and words. He squirmed in the grasp of the person holding him, who simply let go, to allow him to become acquainted with the metal shackling him to the table.

The table was a gurney, he noted as he took a breath and surveyed the area. To his side was a metal table with tools lined up neatly on it. Glancing upwards and taking in with a grimace the grimy walls with peeling paint and stains, he made the weak connection that if the medical equipment was so clean in comparison to everything else... then it was probably important. He rolled his eyes. Well, if they were going to use those medical tools, it wouldn't matter how clean they were if he were in such a dirty environment.

"Jeez, don't be such a princess, Parker." Peter shuddered at the voice, realising that he must have been speaking aloud. Huh. That was odd. He always read about people doing that and had scoffed at how stupid it sounded- but it was actually real.

He tracked his gaze up to the source of the voice and found a shred of recollection in the man's familiar features. Unlike the others, he wasn't wearing a lab coat. Instead, he was wearing a long cape on his back in a rich, vibrant red. Peter opened and closed his mouth a couple of times as he tried and failed to grasp the name.

"Really? I'm offended." The man shook his head, stepping closer. "To think I thought I made an impression on you. And yet you don't even remember my name."

"S'not something I do," he grit out, "be polite with people who kidnap me—my Aunt always told me to be polite to people unless they commit a major crime in—"

"Oh, come on. It was just a little car crash. A tiny kidnapping. I'm not keeping you for long, so don't cry. No, I wouldn't be worried about what I'm going to do to _you_."

Peter raised a brow in confusion. The way the man's eyes gleamed and glimmered, a fang poking from his mouth, the sneer in his voice.

"Quentin?" He murmured after a moment's thought. "From the- party—"

"Weird way to put it, but seeing as though you're drugged up, I'll let it slide. But—yes." The man clapped his hands together. "Brilliant. Everything's falling into place. You remember me? That party. Who was it you were with; the Avengers?"

Something clicked in Peter's mind with those words. The day before (if a day had passed since then), fighting Bucky, the red alarms blaring, people following them, telling Tony, the—Tony. Tony, Tony, Tony. His mind repeated in a frantic loop, a mantra of anxiety. He tugged against his restraints. He couldn't get someone hurt. Couldn't get Tony hurt.

"Tony? Where is he? Quentin, where is Tony?" He demanded, heart hammering in his chest, feeling the sharp metal of his restraints digging into his wrists.

In response, Quentin laughed. "Oh, you're so easy. And don't think calling me by my name will make me any kinder to you—although if you have to say something, call me Beck. Quentin makes me feel old."

Peter ignored him. "Where is he? Where's Tony?" Somehow, he already knew, or at least felt like he did. But his mind wouldn't dull, playing on repeat the time spent with the man. Looking up to the hero as a young boy, being saved by him from the Hammer drones at the Stark Expo, bringing him back to the Tower, spending time in the lab, having—

The images morphed. The squeal of tires, Tony's panicked shouts, the smash of glass and tearing of metal. He tugged with more and more force, finding some strange glee in the panic he saw in Beck's eyes as the metal restraints began to break. However, just as his claws began to poke from his fingers, a sharp jab spiked in his neck and he fell back against the metal gurney. The colours of the world swam in front of him, swirling like a whirlpool and sucking him in. From a distant place, he heard Beck's words,

"You'll be seeing Tony soon."

And then the dark wave of unconsciousness pulled him under.

**********

Waking the second time, something felt different. His fangs still poked from his mouth, evident from the split in his lip which they'd caused. He felt trapped in a hazy world, although everything felt very much in focus.

This time, he wasn't strapped down at all.

The room was long, with barely enough light to see two steps in front of him. He could sense, however, another presence in the distance. The scent of oil and metal and bitter coffee.

"Tony?"

He called out, standing small and lost at one end of the room, staring out into the darkness. Everything was silent, and he began to wonder if his senses were off.

"Peter?"

He breathed out a sigh of relief. "Where- where are we?" He asked next, as if Tony had anymore clue than he did. "I can't see you."

"It's gonna be okay, kiddo." Whilst the man didn't provide any new information, he felt calmed by the admission. He stepped forwards tentatively, eyes raking the area. Maybe they'd gotten out. He just had to find Tony. If only there were lights on.

As if feeling challenged, the room flickered with dim light. Peter immediately saw Tony's hunched figure at the other end of the room. He wasn't restrained either, however looked somewhat injured. Before either of them could say a word in greeting, there was a harsh sound as the speakers crackled to life.

_"Testing, testing, 123. Hello?"_ Beck's smug voice rang out over the speakers. It appeared Tony had also met the man before, as a look of shock and then anger painted his features.

_"Well, isn't this sweet. Tony Stark and his fanboy. How would—"_

"Beck, you son of a –"

There was a loud gasp. _"Tony, young ears. Tut, tut. Well, I suppose you wouldn't know any better. Letting a child run around in a onesie with superpowers and- well, he's a wolf. You do know you're meant to report these things, don't you?"_ Beck waited with a dramatic pause, as if wanting one of them to interject, but quickly became bored with the silence. _"Never mind that. I'm sure you'll learn soon that you can't just take a wolf from the wild and turn it into a dog."_

"That's literally how it works..." Peter mumbled indignantly under his breath.

_"I'm being figurative, Parker! Lighten up! With a mouth like that, it's a wonder no one's found out what you are before. Never mind, little wolf. I won't bore you with the art of theatrics anymore. But really, you need to wake up, see the new world. A place where there's no such thing as objective truth. All there is, is living, and dying. Power. Domination. People can't expect that if they kill a few wolves, then the problem is gone. You cut off one head, and more grow back. No, all I have to say to you is..."_

The next words were in a different language, one Peter didn't think he knew, except he seemed to understand them just fine.

_"Wake, little wolf."_

_"Wake."_

His eyes flickered yellow, and, fangs bared, he threw himself at Tony.


	8. You're Not a Monster

As luck would have it, Tony managed to dive swiftly out of the way the moment that he saw Peter run towards him. He’d made quick work of the restraints that had chained him to the wall (all thanks to a scrap of metal on the ground and his undeniable genius). He winced as the boy slammed roughly into the wall but found that he had no time for prolonged sympathies as Peter quickly recovered and began to advance towards him.

The kid looked different. When he’d transformed before, he’d simply had fangs that were more like cute oversized canine teeth poking from his mouth, and claws that extended from his hands. Now, his eyes were glowing a vibrant gold, and his face had become rougher at the edges, with thin streaks of brown fur framing his jaws.

“Underoos, it’s me. Tony.”

He held up his hands in a show of surrender, ducking his head, trying to get a look into Peter’s eyes and find a shred of recollection in their depths.

A sightless sea of gold stared back at him.

“It’s me.” He ducked as Peter swung out, barely escaping the onslaught of claws. “Please.” He added, tone more desperate and pleading. He really didn’t want to hurt the kid, as he was the one in control and would definitely remember this afterwards.

The boy in front of him had dissolved into a mindless wolf, however, and paid no heed to Tony’s pleadings. With one quick stride, he utilised his super strength and sent the man flying, crashing into the wall behind. Whilst he’d not wavered for a moment in his attack on his mentor, when he heard Tony’s sharp cry of pain, he froze in place, hands going from curled fists to slack at his sides.

Something seemed to shine through in his eyes, past the deep gold fog.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” Tony took this chance to try and gain something back of the boy. However, the moment of clarity lasted as quickly as it had come, and Peter’s fingers unfurled again, claws poised dangerously.

Whilst he didn’t want to do something he’d regret; Tony knew that he couldn’t let the wolf bite him. As Beck’s voice muttered words over the speakers, sending the kid into even more of a mind-controlled frenzy, he snatched up the sharp scrap of metal from the floor.

As Peter ran towards him again, he waited until the last moment to drop to his knees, missing the blows, before grabbing his thin wrist. Turning, he tugged him to the side, but unfortunately, Peter’s super strength gave him the upper hand and with a flurry of movement, Tony found himself pinned to the wall.

He clenched his fist, feeling the cold scrape of the metal in his hand. He felt the wolf’s hot pants of breath on his neck and struggled in his grasp.

“Please, kid.”

He watched as Peter tilted his head, before opening his mouth, fangs bared.

“Please.”

Tony flexed his wrist, attempting to wield the metal in his hand as a weapon, but found it difficult in his current position. He felt a sharp sting in his palm and swore, realising that he’d only managed to cut his own hand with the metal. The wound was shallow but long, blood dripping down his hand and onto the floor.

Something in Peter changed, at that moment. He sniffed, deeply, before his eyes became stuck on the crimson sheen of the blood. A glimmer of brown flickered in his irises.

“Peter. Please—you—this isn’t you. You—I love you, like you’re my own kid.” Peter’s hold on Tony became tighter and he found his breath catching in his throat. “Spending that time with you, watching those—” he wheezed, “—those weird space movies and listening to your pop culture references—all of that— _everything._ It changed me, and—you’re the best person that I know.”

They were so close now, and despite the fangs poking out from beneath his top lip, the streaks of fur, the claws poking into his arm—he could only stand there and see the best in the boy in front of him.

“It’s not your fault. You’re not a monster.”

For a moment, the claws dug deeper into his arm.

And then, they stopped. The flare of pain died down as the boy staggered away, clutching at his head. The speakers had gone quiet, and when Peter looked up, Tony saw that his eyes were brown.

He managed to restrain himself, mouth shutting, the streaks of fur fading back into his skin, as he mumbled, “Mr Stark?”

Tony took a step towards him. But, just as his foot hit the ground, the door was blown open and the world faded away in a blur of smoke and muted colours.


End file.
